Endless Love
by vinkunwildflowerqueen
Summary: Cameron moves into a new house and finds a pack of old letters from WWII. How will they bring her and House together? Cameron's POV. pls forgive any mistakes regarding WWII info. I tried my best. Read the sequel "The Proposal"
1. Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER: House is not mine.

AN. Ok, so the idea for this story came from an episode of "MAD ABOUT YOU". Its not exactly the same, I changed a bit. I just liked the idea and thought it would fit Hameron. BTW, how much does it suck about Jennifer Morrison leaving HOUSE? Sorry, how much does it suck she got written out of HOUSE? I'm seriously considering not watching it anymore once she leaves... that being said, I probably will. But it won't be the same. Cameron was the only character I could relate to. And if you have to write a character out, why do you write out one of the few female characters in the show? Sorry, this is my rant. Read and review!

Also thanks to everyone who commented on my AN for the last story I posted. It meant a lot to me.

PS. This is my first story from Cameron's POV. Enjoy.

Prologue:

I couldn't help but smile as I stood in my kitchen and poured my morning cup of coffee. Although the paperwork had been finalised on Friday, and it was now Monday, there were still moments I was in disbelief. I had bought a house, I was now a home owner!

This was something I've been dreaming about... since I moved out of my parents Chicago home and had to start paying rent. I've had some dodgy landlords over the years, like the one in Arizona when I was an intern at the Mayo Clinic. My landlord would conduct random inspections at least twice a month, and god forbid there was a speck of dirt anywhere, or the apartment was anything less than spotless!

It was earlier this year when I realised that I was turning thirty. Now, I don't mind that I'm now thirty; hopefully it will be better than my twenties. Not that my twenties were awful... except for you know, getting married, widowed, having a HIV scare, a one night stand with a co-worker whilst high on meth, and falling in love with my ass of a boss. The obvious.

Anyway, I realised that I had always expected to be married, with a family and be financially secure enough to own my own home by this important milestone. Then I reasoned that just because I don't have anything else on my list doesn't mean I couldn't at least own that home. So, as of Friday, I, Dr. Allison Cameron am the proud owner of a gorgeous three-bedroom home in Plainsboro, New Jersey. I probably don't need three bedrooms, but I'm not giving up on the other items on my list.

So, for now, those other two bedrooms will be a spare room and a study. I spent my weekend moving the contents of my apartment, and various items I've collected over the past thirty years and been holding in a Trenton storage unit for the past three years. The only thing left to do is paint the walls. (The entire house is presently painted a horrible shade of yellow.)

Thankfully, that doesn't rely on my skills, I've hired painters to do that; actually, they're already here. Mid-way through a mouthful of coffee, I happened to catch a glimpse of the time and realised that I'm in danger of being late for work; and that's taking into account I've already arranged to go into work late so I can let the workers in and issue instructions. I threw my mug into the dishwasher and headed for the door, grabbing my coat and shoulder bag from the sofa.

"Dr. Cameron?"

I turned to face the foreman, Garry (is the head painter a foreman, or is that just for builders? If so, what's the painter version? Maybe it's just head painter?). Anyway, I was halfway out the door when he called out to me, but I patiently turned to face him.

"Yes?"

He held out a plastic bag to me, with a bunch of papers inside. "One of the guys found this under a loose floorboard in the bedroom."

"Oh." I took them, and not really sure what to do with them, threw them in my bag. "Ok, thanks. What time will you guys be done today?"

"We'll probably finish about four."

I nodded. "OK, fine. Uh, I'll try to be back by then, but if I get stuck at the hospital, you can lock up?"

"No worries, Dr. Cameron," Garry smiled and I smiled back at him and left, pulling the door shut behind me.


	2. Chapter 2

DISCLAIMER: House isn't mine.

AN. Writing these letter's was a new challenge for me. But one I really enjoyed.

One:

"Well, there goes the plan to be home by four," I sighed, talking aloud to the empty office.

House, Chase and Foreman had already left, we had a patient who had to be monitored through the night to see if the treatment was working, and guess who drew the short straw? The funny thing is, I mean that literally. Drawing straws was Chase's idea to determine who stayed. I honestly think sometimes I work with three teenage boys dressing up as doctors.

I took off my lab coat and hung it up, I wasn't going to wear it all night- they're not the most comfortable of clothes. God, what I wouldn't give for my pajamas right now... and of course, I didn't have a book or anything to do all night, not even paperwork- my nagging and Cuddy's threats of extra clinic duty had finally gotten House to do some work. Shocking, I know.

I decided to leave my bag in the office, but took out my wallet- for vending machine snacks. As I dug through the bag for it, my fingers brushed the plastic bag that Garry had handed me that morning. Frowning, I took it out and carefully opened it to examine the contents. I don't know what I expected, but I knew the house had been empty for a few years before I bought it, and I'm not a fan of bugs.

Thankfully, the bag was bug-free. My interest peaked when I saw the bag contained a stack of letters, in faded, yellowed envelopes. I only hesitated for a moment before decisively taking the stack with me as I left the office. At least it would kill some time.

Our patient, Louise, 32-year old mother of three, was sleeping deeply as I gently slid open the door to her room and eased myself into the chair in the back. I quickly scanned the various machines surrounding Louise, just to check everything was ok, before I slowly unfolded the first letter. There was about six in the stack, all in various stages of yellowing.

The handwriting covering the paper inside was firm and bold, easy to read- no messy doctors' scrawl for this person. I had a mental flashback to House telling me I wrote 'like a junior high school girl.' Then I shook my head to erase the image, and turned my attention to the letter.

_February 6__th__, 1942_

_My dearest Henry..._

_It seems like it was a million years ago that you held me in your arms and reluctantly said goodbye. It seems humanly impossible to miss you as much as I do, and it's only been a week since you shipped out. _

_I'm taking my mother's advice (I know, I know. See this is what happens when you're not around, I lose my mind!), and trying to keep myself busy. The one good thing about you leaving is that there is an abundance of backed up paperwork for me to do. Your replacement is Dr. Walter Blythe, and he's just lovely. The patients seem to love him, but that could be because he is perhaps slightly more tactful than you when it comes to advising patients to change their lifestyle. _

_It's flu season, so we don't have a shortage of patients or paperwork, merely of time and supplies. It's a slight comfort to know that as much as we need them, you need them more and they are on their way to you. Have I told you how proud I am of you? For all the other doctors in the practice to say that you're gruff and unethical, they can't say anything now without being reminded that __you're_ _the one in war-torn France helping save the lives of our injured boys. _

_Drs. Churchill and Forest were suitably abashed when Eliza reminded them of that fact just yesterday. She's been a wonderful support to me in your absence, and I am just in awe of her work. She's working such long hours here at the practice, and then has to go home to look after her mother and somehow find the time to raise her son. I know she must struggle at times but she never complains. This is why you made her head nurse, I know._

_I hope this letter reaches you. I can't imagine not having any correspondence with you until your homecoming, and I don't want to leave you in France without any news from home. God forbid I should expose you to the temptations of any pretty French girls._

_My prayers are with you. I light a candle for you every night, my darling. Please come home safe. I love you..._

_Caroline._

You know that feeling when you read a really good book, and become part of the story? That's what I was feeling when I finished reading the letter. I had no idea who Henry and Caroline were... but oh my god, I was hoping there was a happy ending.

But at the same time, it was like coming in halfway through a movie. Worst thing about letters, they never give background information. From what I could tell, Caroline was a nurse in a doctor's practice in World War II. Henry must be her husband? Boyfriend? Lover? Brother, even? No, not brother. I was confident enough to rule that out. I was guessing he was a doctor, and had gone over to Europe to assist in the field hospitals.

Praying the letters were already in order, I grabbed the next letter on top and opened it carefully, noting the different handwriting on the envelope. I was suddenly immensely glad that Wilson had the worst handwriting I've ever seen-even for a doctor. After deciphering that scribble, the scrawls I was reading now were nothing to read.

_February 10__th__, 1942_

_To Caroline..._

_Well, I got your letter. So, I think it's safe to say that I'm not dead, although I think the Nazi's are doing a pretty good job of trying to change that. _

_And forget about any pretty French girls, I think we should be more concerned with the 'just lovely' Dr. Blythe. When you said he was my replacement, I'm seriously hoping you meant just in regards to taking over my patients. _

_Tell Churchill and Forest that they're more than welcome to come over and give me a hand; the troops could use a laugh. Even the ones that don't speak English. And who says I'm unethical? _

_Over here, it's the more extreme methods that tend to save lives without cutting off body parts; so guess who's top of the class? It's long days and tiring work, but it's worth it when you save a guy everyone else has given up on. I promised you I wouldn't give you the gory details, so I'm not really sure what's left to say that won't risk being censored out. _

_Actually, you're damn lucky I'm writing at all. It's just to let you know I'm alive so you can unclench. I'm safe, don't worry. Doctor's orders._

_Henry._

Well that was.... considerably shorter and void of emotion than Caroline's letter. I mean, yeah, I get that the guy is writing from the middle of France during a war; but would it kill him to say 'I love you and I'll do everything in my power to come home to you'? I could almost swear this was an example of unrequited love if I hadn't picked up on subtle tones of concern and jealously from between the lines of his words.

Churchill and Forest must be other doctors in the practice. Mocking, arrogant and over-confident... boy, do they remind me of someone I know. Or rather, two someone's. Then Dr. Blythe was Henry's replacement, and Eliza was the Head Nurse. And Henry, from what I could tell, was an unethical, abrasive ass. God, the similarities were amazing.


	3. Chapter 3

DISCLAIMER: House isn't mine.

Two:

I was dying to open the third letter, but my stomach rumbled and I decided, based on medical reasoning of course, that I'd be able to focus much better after a coffee and some chocolate. I made a quick trip to the vending machine down the hall from Louise's room and then returned to my seat, finding the third letter in Caroline's handwriting.

_February 14__th__, 1942_

_Happy Valentine's Day, the love of my life! _

_Now don't roll your eyes at me, Henry James Beaumont. You may be halfway across the world, but I am __going__ to celebrate Valentine's Day with my fiancée. It still sounds so strange to think of you as my fiancée... but I can't wait to call you my husband. Of course, both our mothers are trying to 'assist' me with beginning wedding plans; but I told them I didn't feel right going ahead without you. I wouldn't derive you of all that joy, my love. _

_And don't worry about Walter. Eliza made certain practically the minute he arrived that he was aware that I was engaged to be married... and that she was not. I'm not quite sure that Walter knew what to make of it, but he took it in his stride. He's such a gentleman, and wonderful with children. _

_Forest and Churchill have been on their best behaviour, so I didn't bother passing on your message, I merely told them you were safe and extended your greetings to them. Mrs. Franklin was in this morning, poor thing. She's just been told that Michael was killed when his plane was shot down over Berlin. She's absolutely devastated and I felt so sorry for her. And then it got me thinking about how I would feel if I was told that you weren't coming home. Of course, I can't really compare; my mother says nothing is worse than having to bury a child. Well, she'd know. I don't think she's ever fully recovered from my sister's death and that was ten years ago now. _

_Don't worry, I'm not going to re-tell the story of how my sister's death motivated me to become a nurse to help others. It's a waste of paper, which is far too precious at the moment, but it's my only link to you and I don't want to waste it with stories you've heard a thousand times._

_I love you so much, my darling and I wish you were here with me to celebrate Valentine's Day. Stay safe, and know my thoughts, prayers and all of my love is with you._

_Caroline._

_PS. It is physically impossible for me to unclench until you are home safe. _

Henry Beaumont... and the future Mrs. Dr. Henry Beaumont.... now that these people had real identities, it was so much more intense. I smiled slightly as I re-read how Caroline had begun her letter _to the love of my life_. I didn't know how old she was, I could only guess that she was in her late-twenties, early thirties. Something about the way she wrote suggested she was my age...

I'm slightly wary of the phrase 'love of my life'. I guess that's what happens when your life becomes drama after drama. I mean, how do you know who the love of your life is? I fell in love for the first time when I was twenty. Got married at twenty-one and watched him die. I was heartbroken, and thought that was it for me.

And then for some stupid reason, I fell in love with House. Well, maybe that's a bit strong. I developed feelings for House, certainly but I don't know if it was love. I know it could have been, but it just wasn't meant to be.

But that's the scary part. It feels really disloyal that my husband, my first love... and I did love him, the intense love that Caroline and Henry seem to have... I feel so guilty to think about falling in love again, to have a greater love than I had with him.

Ok, this is how we end up in tears thinking about our dead husbands. I shook my head firmly and turned to the next letter, wondering how Henry would react to Caroline's Valentine's Day letter.

_February 20__th__, 1942_

_Dearest Caroline..._

_I just realised I never told you that I love you. It's never been easy for me to say that to people, and I love that you know me so well you don't expect me to say it. But its times like these I need to make sure you know exactly just how much I love you, why I love you and how much my dreams and thoughts of you get me through the hours here._

_We've had a rough few days with heavy casualties. A lot of deaths, a lot of young deaths with families and sweethearts waiting and praying for them to come home, just like you are for me. There was one boy, and I say that literally, he was only twenty, and I'll never forget him._

_His name was Tony Richardson, and he's from Sydney, Australia. He came to us with a shrapnel fragments in his chest and a hole in his gut. There was nothing we could do for him but give him a bit of morphine and a little bit of comfort in his last few moments. For some reason, we started talking. He told me all about his sweetheart back home, her name is Annabella. They've known each other their whole lives, and their mother's used to joke they would get married. They started dating when they were fifteen, and Tony said he knew he was going to marry her on their third date. _

_He saved up for three years for an engagement ring. He bought the ring before he shipped out, and has somehow carried it around with him the entire time he's been over here. His big plan was to propose the second he arrived back home and saw her again. This ring has been motivating him to keep safe for two years now, and she'll never get it. She'll never know that his last words and thoughts were of her, and that he loved her more than life itself._

_After listening to his story, I felt like I take you for granted. I know it wasn't easy for us, but somehow we fell in love and well... my proposal wasn't exactly the most romantic gesture, was it? But I need you to know that I love you more than anything, and I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you. _

_Tony and Annabella are only five years younger than you, and ten years younger than me. In the four years that I've known you, and the two and a half years that I've loved you; I can't remember if I ever told you how much I love you. The funny thing is, now that I'm searching for the words, I don't think there are words to describe my feelings for you. The best I can say, sweetheart, is that the day I fell in love with you, my world began. My life before you doesn't register, because every second I spend with you is living. Now, until I can come home and hold you in my arms again, I am merely a ghost of myself. _

_I love you Caroline. Eternally yours,_

_Henry. _

I haven't cried this much as I did reading this letter since... well, since last weekend when I re-watched _A Walk to Remember _for the millionth time. God, I love that movie. Nicholas Sparks is a genius.

You can practically feel, (or maybe it's just me) that despite his discomfort at writing such an emotional letter, he really does believe what he's writing. Damn Caroline is lucky. Was lucky?

I guess I was pretty lucky too. Turns out marrying a guy who's dying of a terminal illness has a bright side. You don't take a single second for granted, and guys aren't afraid to tell you their feelings. Guys like that who aren't dying are pretty rare. Not that I'm looking... but that doesn't mean I'd say no if I stumbled into one... ok, this is ridiculous. Moving on.


	4. Chapter 4

DISCLAIMER: House isn't mine.

AN. So I thought it was time to bring House into it and get his perspective. This is where it gets interesting.

Three:

It was, by this stage, it was half-past eleven. Re-reading the letters and then getting lost in thoughts is a great way to pass the time. I was on to letter four now, once again from Caroline to Henry.

_February 23__rd__, 1942_

_Dear Henry,_

_I just read your letter for the hundredth time, and I can't tell you how much it moved me. I know you love me, but to see it in your own handwriting... I think I should have it framed, just as proof it happened. I'm replying straight away, in case this is just a dream and I should wake up. _

_Sorry darling, I'm just teasing. I suppose that isn't the best way to encourage you to write letters like that more often, is it? A funny thing happened the other day, Janine came into the practice the other day, and do you remember her? The nurse who Eliza replaced about two years ago? Anyway, she was in the neighbourhood and thought she'd drop by to see how we were going with the war, at least that's what she said. You know what a gossip she was. Actually, she still is. _

_As we were talking, she happened to catch sight of my beautiful ring that is my pride and joy in your absence, a never-ending sign of your love for me. Of course, Janine being Janine, she wanted all the details of first and foremost who I was marrying, and then the details of how you proposed and if we had any wedding arrangements completed yet. I found it quite comical just how surprised she was when I said I was marrying you! Well, I suppose we had only been courting for six months when she left, but it was actually kind of insulting._

_I believe her exact words when I said I was betrothed to you were 'Henry? Why on Earth would you marry him?' I didn't dignify her with an answer._

_Well, I still love you, despite Janine's disapproval. I hope you come home to me soon, my love._

_Caroline._

"What _are _you doing?"

I jumped, startled at the sudden voice in the room- I hadn't even heard the door slide open. I was even more startled because the voice that interrupted me belonged to none other than House, who never comes in before nine, unless there's an emergency. And it was only just after midnight.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, not answering his question, because I had no idea how to answer it. What was I doing? Reading letters from World War II that the painters found under a loose floorboard in my house. Yes, that's very ethical. Actually, it's something House would do... great.

He shrugged. "Couldn't sleep."

He eased into the chair next to me, and I noticed his right hand gripping his thigh muscle as he sat. His leg must be bothering him, I've noticed it tends to ache more in the colder months. I think I took pity on him because he was in pain, because I answered his earlier question in an attempt to distract him from the pain.

"I'm getting my house painted, and they found these letters under a loose floorboard," I replied, holding them up for him to see.

"And I've got nothing else to do tonight, so I started reading them."

"Your landlord is letting you paint your apartment?"

I suddenly realised that House didn't know that I'd bought a house. I try to keep him out of my private life, and I filed my own change of address at the hospital.

"No, actually. I bought a house."

He blinked at me. "You bought a house?"

I nodded. "Yeah. But I had to get it painted, because... well, for one thing it's been empty for about ten years apparently; and the last owners must have loved the colour yellow. Unfortunately, it's an awful yellow, so hence the painting."

House was still staring at me with an odd expression. "You bought a house?"

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, I did. Why?"

"Why didn't you tell me?"

I frowned slightly in confusion. "Because. I didn't realise I needed your permission. It's not that big of a deal, House."

I think House's expression was just shock that something happened that he didn't know about. He can be such a child sometimes... and dammit, why do I find that sexy?

I shook my head in disbelief and went to open the next letter when the pile was suddenly snatched off my lap.

"Hey!" I protested, but House ignored me.

"So, what are these? Love letters?"

"Kind of, yeah," I answered readily.

He read the date on the first letter and let out a low whistle. "1942. Good year."

I wasn't sure if he was serious or not. I mean, who looks at any date during a war and says 'good year'?

"You'd know. What were you, six then?" I muttered under my breath and leaned over, in an effort to grab back the letters.

He must have heard me though, because he abruptly moved the letters out of my reach, and grabbed my outstretched arm with his hand. I let out a sigh and twisted my head to look up at him, and immediately wished I hadn't. House was now only perhaps a foot away from my face, and staring at me with those eyes, one eyebrow raised.

You know in Harry Potter, how he always says that Dumbledore's gaze feels like he's being x-rayed? That's kind of how House's gaze makes me feel... except he's hot.

"Are you implying that I'm old?" he asked me.

I gestured innocently. "Would I do that? I'm the nice one, remember?" I smiled sweetly and House regarded me intensely for a moment before releasing my arm.

To my immense irritation, he then read the letters I had already opened. At first it was just annoying, because all I wanted to do was read the final two letters that he wouldn't relinquish. But about half way through the second letter, I could tell he was as sucked into the story as I was and I loved the look on his face as he read the letters between Caroline and Henry. It was an expression I didn't think I'd ever seen on his face before.

I finally reacted as he began to open the fifth letter, the one I hadn't read yet.

"Hey! I haven't read it yet, give it back!"

"No way. You snooze, you lose."

"You are such a child," I fumed, trying to grab the letter back.

"And you love it about me," he replied.

I blushed furiously, but didn't comment.

"House, come on! They're my letters!"

"No they're not. Last time I checked you were Allison, not Caroline and if you were twenty-five in 1942, you must give me directions to the fountain of youth you've apparently found."

Typical House. And he once accused _me _of taking everything too literal. I rolled my eyes, and gave in. "Fine. You read it then."

Dammit, why do I always give in to him?

House surprised me though (it was bound to happen eventually, right?) and cleared his throat, beginning to read the letter aloud.

_12__th__ April, 1942_

_Caroline, what the hell is going on? _

_You haven't written to me in two months! I'm really getting worried._

_At first I thought maybe mail was just getting lost, but all the other doctors and nurses are getting their mail, so I repeat- what the hell is going on? _

_The only thing I can think of is you've finally realised you can do better and fallen in love with someone else. If its Churchill- I'd say that's going downhill, not up. _

_Sweetheart, please write to me. I need to know you're safe. I'm trapped here in this hellhole, doing the best I can to save lives with limited equipment, and even less morale. My only motivation is to get home to you, so please just let me know you're not hurt._

_I know these past few months have been rough, my darling, but it won't be much longer. I just got the news this morning, my love, that I'm being promoted and with it, transferred back stateside!_

_I can't wait to see you, and the first thing I'm going to do is to marry you. I don't care when, where or how, but I'm not waiting any longer. I've seen too much death and destruction here to delay celebrating life. _

_Please write soon, sweetheart. I'll be waiting for your word._

_All my love,_

_Henry._

Despite how strange it was to hear the words 'sweetheart', 'my love' and 'darling' coming from House's lips, I was still shocked by the letter. I was desperate to know why Caroline hadn't written back to 'the love of her life'; and I lunged for the final letter on House's lap. Caroline couldn't have fallen in love with someone else, could she? There was no way!

House didn't stop me as I opened the final letter, with much less care than I had opened the others. It was very short, but I was relieved to see it was in Caroline's handwriting- she had at least, replied to his desperate letter.

_April, 24__th__ 1942_

_My dearest Henry,_

_I'm so sorry to worry you, all I've done since we've been apart is try not to give you any reason to think I'm anything less than safe. I got your letter a few days ago, but I... I just don't know how to tell you._

_I hope you know how much I love you, Henry. I do, so much. The news of your homecoming is a moment I've dreamed of often since you left, but I always imagined I would feel so much more joy at the news._

_Please let it be noted I have not fallen in love with anyone else... I have already given my heart to you, there is no hope of any of my love and affection belonging to anyone but you, and so it shall be until the day I die._

_I love you so much, and it is my fear of losing you and having to endure a life without you that has kept me from writing for so long. But that said, I understand if, upon hearing my news, you wish to terminate our engagement. _

_I will tell you all when you return. I would not do you the dishonour of telling you on paper. _

_I love you, and I will eternally._

_Caroline._

House, intrigued by this little mystery, clapped his hands together in excitement.

"Ok, quick- next letter."

"There's no more," I replied, still dazed.

"What?"

"There was only six under the floorboard," I said helplessly. "God... what happened to her?"

"Maybe there's more letters under the floorboards?" House suggested. "I vote we go look!"

Now, I may have been in shock over the unknown fate of Henry and Caroline, but not so dazed I didn't recognize that House's suggestion had a secondary motive of inspecting my home.

I smiled mischievously at him. "Sure. You stay here and supervise the patient while I go look."

House pouted. "Not fair."

I couldn't help but laugh. "Please, you don't think after three years of working for you, I don't know what your motives are?"

"I'm quite sure I have no idea what you're talking about," House replied innocently, but I wasn't buying it.

I merely smiled and leaned my head against the wall. Now that the adrenaline caused by finding the letters had worn off, I was really quite exhausted. But with House here, I wouldn't feel bad about sleeping. I don't think he even noticed that I fell asleep.


	5. Chapter 5

DISCLAIMER: House isn't mine.

AN. Props to anyone who can find the season 5 quote in this chapter.

Four:

"Rise and Shine!"

I was awake immediately as House entered the room, carrying a takeout bag from MacDonald's. The sun was rising through the windows and he plonked himself in the chair he had been seated in earlier.

"You went out for breakfast?"

"Good work, Sherlock," he rolled his eyes. "What gave it away? Did you deduce that by taking off your sunglasses to the strains of a Who song?"

"Oh, a CSI pun. Funny," I mumbled, yawning and running my hands through my hair.

House chuckled. "I forgot that you're actually funny when you're sleep deprived."

He opened the bag he was holding and pulled out a container of hotcakes, which he then handed to me, to my amazement.

"You bought me hotcakes for breakfast?" I asked in wonder.

He took them back off me. "No, I bought _me_ hotcakes for breakfast. I got _you_ yoghurt and muesli from down the street," he corrected me, handing me a container of yoghurt and muesli from within the bag.

"You didn't strike me as the fast food for breakfast kind of girl."

I smiled, surprisingly pleased as I opened it. "I'm not, usually. But I make exceptions for chocolate and McDonalds."

That seemed to surprise House, but he didn't say anything except, "Well, there you go."

"No coffee?" I asked as we ate.

House snorted. "Are you kidding? Yours is the only coffee I drink and you were asleep."

I nodded in compliance, and we fell into silence.

"By the way, there's nothing under the floorboards."

It took me a moment to realise what he had said. "You went to my house?!"

He nodded smugly. "Yep. It's a nice place. And I see what you meant about that yellow- you seriously needed the place painted."

I was still speechless with shock. "_You went to my house_!"

"Oh come on, Cameron. You say you know me, but _that _surprises you?" he demanded.

Well, he had a point.

So, I moved on to what he had initially said- there were no more letters under the floorboards.

I sighed. "Well, I guess we'll never know what happened to Caroline and Henry."

House rolled his eyes. "You give up way too early, Cameron. Some detective you'd make."

"So what do you suggest?" I demanded.

He stood up, and gestured for me to follow.

"What about Louise?" I asked.

"Who?" he frowned.

Typical. "The patient," I clarified, nodding towards her sleeping figure.

"She'll be fine for a few minutes. Now, come on!"

Reluctantly, but also wanting to know what his idea was to find out what had happened to Henry and Caroline, I got up and followed.

He led the way to his office, where he switched on his computer, and leaned back in his chair, waiting for the computer to upload.

"While you're standing there, make coffee," he ordered me.

I rolled his eyes. "Sure, it's not problem what so ever."

I made the coffee, and poured it into his red mug, and then poured myself a cup before returning to the office and placing the mug on his desk. He immediately grabbed it and took a mouthful.

"You're welcome," I said pointedly and then sat opposite his desk.

I sat in silence as he uploaded the internet and turned to Google.

"Ok, so what do you know about them?" he asked me.

I took a deep breath, cradling my mug in my hands as I thought about everything I'd read throughout the night.

"In 1942, Caroline was twenty-five, and Henry was thirty. She was a nurse in the practice where he worked, with two other doctors, Churchill and Forrest. Henry must have been one of the first units shipped out after we joined the war; and he was assigned to a field hospital in Europe. Oh, Beaumont! Henry's last name was Beaumont."

House paused, then typed a few words into the search engine.

"So, if good ol' Henry's still alive... that would make him ninety-five today."

I winced. I mean, I know these days, plenty of people live to be ninety-five or older.... but still.

"They'd probably be in a home by now," House commented.

"Not necessarily," I pointed out. "My grandparents are in their late eighties, and still live in their own home."

"True," House conceded. "But you said no-one's lived in your house for about ten years, which is where the letters were found."

I gave him that, and he twirled his cane thoughtfully. "Do you reckon they're still in Jersey?"

I shrugged. "Maybe."

House pulled up the website for the phone directory and looked up retirement homes in Princeton.

"What are you going to say?" I asked him.

House checked his watch. "Well, right now? Nothing, because everyone would still be asleep. It's not even seven am yet."

I stood up, draining my coffee. "Good. I'm going to go home for a bit. I'll be back in an hour."

"You'll be late," House said, clicking on the icon to play solitaire.

"No I won't," I replied, and went to grab my bag.

Sure enough, I was still back before Chase and Foreman arrived, and I after checking on Louise and collecting the mail, I entered the office to find House searching through all the cupboards.

"What are you looking for?" I asked him, dumping the mail on my desk.

"My animal cookies," he replied.

"They're gone," I answered.

He turned to look at me in disbelief. "What? No, they're not! I saw a box in here yesterday morning, when I was looking for the sugar!"

"No, you didn't. That was an empty box that Chase put back after he and Foreman finished them off last case we had."

He sighed with irritation and got up from the floor with difficulty. I resisted the urge to go over and help him up, knowing he'd refuse. He's such a proud cripple.

"How many times have I told them not to put the empty box back in the cupboard?" he demanded of himself, stalking back to his office.

"And thanks for helping the cripple up off the floor," he said sarcastically as he walked past my desk.

I sighed heavily. You can't win with House.

When Chase and Foreman finally arrived, House sent Foreman to deal with Louise and sent Chase to buy more animal cookies and then do House's assigned clinic hours, much to his annoyance.

Honestly, I was just glad it wasn't me.

I finished sorting and answering House's mail, and was flicking through a medical journal when House suddenly entered the otherwise empty room and picked up the phone on my desk.

"The phone in your office broken?" I asked him dryly, but he ignored me, dialling a number from a printed piece of paper.

"Hello, this is Dr. House from Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. I was just wondering if you had any residents there by the name of Beaumont?"

Evidently the person on the other end said no, because House grunted what was apparently supposed to pass for a 'thank you' and hung up.

"You know," I said as he began dialling the next number on his list. "This is kind of pointless. For all we know, Henry died before he could come home and Caroline never married- or married someone else."

"Shhh!" House hissed at me, putting a finger to his lips.

I admit it, I sat there and watched gleefully as House called half the nursing home's in Princeton, none having anyone named Beaumont in their care. Finally, when House asked for a Beaumont the person on the other end gave a different reply, and House's face lit up like it did when he found a diagnosis.

"Henry _and _Caroline Beaumont!" he announced as he bluntly hung up on the person he was talking to.

My heart leapt at the news. Henry had come home and married Caroline! House had disappeared back into his office, and I was still processing that he had found them when he reappeared with his bike jacket on and carrying his backpack and helmet.

"Come on, move your ass!" he said, heading for the door.

I hastily jumped up and grabbed my bag and coat.

"I'm not getting on your bike!" I called after him as we hurried down the hall.


	6. Chapter 6

DISCLAIMER: House isn't mine.

AN. So i am now going to post the three last chapters to 'endless love'. Dont' be dismayed by the ending, i did it that way on purpose so i might write a sequel if i get an idea for a story. (feel free to make suggestions). the next story of the 9 i'm currently working on between work, church and uni that you can probably expect to be posted is the sequel to 'the exception' called 'no man's land'. Thanks to everyone who reviewed. it means a lot. I'm glad you like the story. btw, did anyone pick up the season 5 quote in the last chapter?

also, good work to ILoveHLaurie for picking up my play on character names.

Five:

I got on the bike.

We arrived at the nursing home twenty minutes later, and I quickened my pace to match House as we headed inside. The nurse at the front desk was doing a crossword when we entered and House marched (well, limped) up to her and leaned over.

"Thirteen down is _Dead Poets Society_," he told her and she looked up at him in surprise.

"Can I help you, sir?"

"Yeah, we need to see Henry and Caroline Beaumont," he replied brusquely.

"I'm sorry, sir, Mr. Beaumont is unable to receive visitors."

"And Mrs. Beaumont? I thought we were past the stage where women couldn't hiccup without a man's permission," House said.

I grimaced and hastily stepped forward to speak to the girl. This is a situation House is not good at.

"Hi, sorry to bother you. My name's Allison Cameron, and I'm a doctor at Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. If it's not too much trouble, we'd love just a few minutes with Mrs. Beaumont," I smiled sweetly.

"Brown-noser," House muttered in my earshot, but I just ignored him.

The girl seemed to respond however, she smiled back and picked up the phone. "I'll see if she'll see you."

I nodded and watched as she dialled an extension and waited for someone to pick up.

"Good morning, Caroline, it's Melanie. You have a few visitors at reception, they'd like a moment with you... uh, and a doctor from Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital....ok, hang on."

Melanie covered the mouthpiece with her hand and directed the question to me, not House. I wonder why.

"She asked what it's about."

I hesitated for a moment. "It's a long story... I just bought her house on Elm Street."

Melanie frowned, slightly confused but said into the phone, "Apparently Dr... Cameron just bought your house in Elm Street.... Ok, sure. No worries."

Melanie hung up and stood up with a polite smile. "Please follow me."

I beamed triumphantly at House, who merely grimaced in reply as we followed her through the halls. Finally, we stopped outside a door that led to a small conservatory, filled with sunlight. I went through first, and sitting near a window was a woman I just knew immediately was Caroline. I couldn't tell you how, I just did.

She was exactly as I'd pictured her, only older. Well, I guess if House had calculated Henry would be 95, than makes her 90. She didn't look it though. She was like Dumbledore, she just gave the impression of being much younger.

"Mrs. Beaumont?"

She smiled and took my hand in hers warmly. "Please, dear call me Caroline. Come, sit. Thank you Melanie," she called to the girl, who smiled politely and returned to her post.

I took off my coat and sat opposite her, and House sat himself next to me.

"So, I hear you've bought my home, Dr. Cameron," she began, perhaps sensing that I had no idea where to begin, and I sure as hell wasn't going to let House start the talking.

"It's Allison," I corrected her. "This is my... this is my boss, Dr. Greg House."

Caroline smiled gracefully at House, but continued to address me. "It's a beautiful home, isn't it?"

I smiled. "It is, I fell in love with it the minute I saw it."

Caroline beamed with pleasure. "Yes... we moved out twelve years ago, but we rented out for awhile, but I couldn't stand what they did to my home. They painted the walls yellow, for heaven's sake! The entire house! So then we sold it."

I laughed. "I know, I'm getting it painted as we speak," I assured her.

"Good. So, I must ask Allison- what on earth brings you and your boss here today? Surely not just the house?"

I sighed, realising for the first time that while I had been so engrossed in the love story of Caroline and Henry- I was actually reading someone else's mail. Someone who was still alive, and I wasn't sure how they'd react to that. So instead, I pulled the letters out of my bag and watched Caroline's eyes widen.

"One of the painters found these-"

"Under the floorboard in the bedroom," she finished quietly, taking them from me.

I nodded. "Yes. I'm so sorry, I hope you don't mind that I read them," I began to apologise.

Caroline shook her head. "No, no. I don't blame you for being curious, my dear. Goodness knows, I would be too! Heavens, I'd thought I'd lost these! I forgot I hid them."

"Would it be terribly rude if I asked you what happened?" I asked, wincing apprehensively. "It's just... I fell in love with you and Henry's story... that's why we had to find you, I couldn't imagine that you didn't live happily ever after," I smiled apologetically.

Caroline took a deep breath, and shook her head. "That my dear, is a story I never get tired of telling. Especially not to a new audience," her eyes twinkled and I shot House an excited glance.

It was odd, him being so silent, but I wasn't complaining. Caroline leaned back in her chair thoughtfully and sighed.

"Well, I guess it all starts when I was studying to be a nurse. We didn't have much money, and my mother never really recovered after my sister's death when I was a child. I offered to just get a job to help her, but my mother said I should keep studying. So, I took a job as a receptionist in Henry's practice."

She smiled fondly into the distance. "Henry was... unorthodox. He was a respected doctor, of course, but my goodness, he could be blunt to the point of being cruel! You can't imagine what it was like to work for someone like that every day and see the way he treated his patients."

I scoffed slightly. "Actually, trust me when I tell you I can."

"Yeah, that Cuddy... what a witch!" House replied innocently, and I rolled my eyes.

"Henry once told me he only hired me because he knew I needed a job, and with my looks, he figured prostitution would be my next job," Caroline chuckled and I raised an eyebrow at House.

Now why did that seem vaguely familiar?

"Drs. Churchill and Forrest were sweethearts of course," Caroline continued. "Such dears, and _such _gentlemen! They were always helping me take care of my mother and the house when I needed a hand. And Eliza was my best friend, always making sure I kept on top of my studies and comforting me when I needed it."

"Henry offered you a job when you finished your studies?" I asked her hesitantly. After all, I didn't have much to go on other than what had been in the letters.

But Caroline nodded. "Yes, he did, for my coffee making skills, he said. But somehow, even after I finished, I still ended up taking care of all the paperwork. Heaven knows Henry never did it."

I couldn't help but laugh slightly, and Caroline frowned at me in polite inquisitiveness.

"Sorry," I apologised. "Just a bit of déjà vu."

Caroline nodded knowingly and turned to House. "You're not one for paperwork either, Dr. House?"

"Why should I do it, when she will?" House shrugged unapologetically.

Caroline smiled. "I've always said history repeats itself."

I didn't understand that, and apparently neither did House; but Caroline didn't explain. But nevertheless, something in her tone made me blush, and I caught a glimpse of House staring at me with that odd expression again.

"So, how did you and Henry get together?" I asked her eagerly. Back information was great, but I wanted details on the romance.

"Well... it just kind of happened, I guess. Churchill and Forrest had left for the day, I was finishing the paperwork and by the time I left it was dark. Henry had been in his office, and he offered to escort me home. We started talking, and there you go. Two years later, we were engaged."

She laughed suddenly. "I've always said that his proposal was the least romantic in history. It was August 1941, and we were talking about the war. Henry said he supposed it wouldn't be long before we were involved, and I said with his personality he'd be shot by his own men by the time they left the harbour! So he turned to me and said, 'well, we should get married then so at least you'll have the diamond ring to remember me by!' I thought he was joking, so I agreed- and he turned up on my doorstep the next day with a ring!"

I laughed at the image. "I've always thought it's the unromantic gestures that are really the most romantic," I admitted.

"That's very true," Caroline agreed.

"That's such a load of crap," House said bluntly.

I was horrified, not least because well... is that really how you speak to an old lady unless they speak to you like that first?

"House!" I protested.

Caroline, however, seemed intrigued by his opinion. "What makes you say that, Dr. House?"

I groaned slightly. If there's anything I've learnt from working under House- never give him an opening to rant.

"Any guy can be unromantic," House began. "It's so much less effort to be unromantic than romantic. If women really want guys to be unromantic they should love it when we forget their birthdays, or don't help around the house, or are total jerks. By that logic... well, Cameron it's no wonder you slept with Chase."

I was mortified. "House!"

Caroline chuckled. "When we mean by 'unromantic' Dr. House, isn't everyday behaviour. Just small things that you wouldn't find in a Hollywood movie, but let us know that we mean something to you. Like Henry's proposal. Or..."

"Showing up on someone's doorstep; asking them to come back to work when they quit," I said quietly, and both turned to me.

"Exactly," Caroline beamed.

House's eyes met mine for a moment and I turned away immediately, but I could feel his gaze lingering on me. Of all my memories of working for House, that's definitely one of the highlights.

I cleared my throat and turned to Caroline, my final question burning in my throat. "So what happened? Why did you stop writing?"

Caroline paused and pursed her lips. "That's the part of the story that doesn't usually get told," she murmured and I felt _so_ bad.

"I'm sorry," I began but she stopped me.

"Don't worry dear. To put matters in the simplest form- I was attacked."

I gaped at her in horror. "What?" I demanded, and even House was speechless.

Caroline nodded grimly. "Yes. By Walter Blythe. I thought nothing of when he offered to escort me home one night, he had seemed so lovely... and then..."

She couldn't finish, but she didn't have to. It was perfectly clear what had happened. Walter Blythe had raped her.

"And as if that wasn't bad enough, I fell pregnant," she continued sadly.

Oh. My. God.

"What did Henry say when you told him? When he came home?" I asked her, almost whispering.

Caroline chuckled. "Well, he broke Walter's jaw for one thing," she said almost proudly. "And then he married me."

"And the baby?" House asked her.

"Oh, I had him. A little boy, we named James Michael Beaumont. Henry adopted him when he was born, and he's never loved him less than as if he was his own flesh and blood. We had our own child, little Edward... but that was after the war, of course. Henry was sent back over to Europe in 1944."

"But he came home again," I pressed.

Caroline nodded. "Yes. But only after losing a leg when the field hospital he was working in was bombed. His doctors couldn't save it."

I couldn't help myself- my eyes instinctively went to House's leg, the thigh of which he was still subtly massaging with his hand. Caroline noticed, of course and asked him,

"What happened to _your_ leg, Dr. House?"

I've seen other people ask him that question, and he normally avoids the question or lies. But to Caroline, he met her eyes and replied,

"I had an infarction. A blood clot," he explained and she nodded.

"I'm sorry. It must be hard. How long ago was it?"

"About eight years."

"How did Henry handle it? Losing his leg?" I asked her.

Caroline sighed and shook her head. "He struggled with it a lot. Especially for me. The first year or so, he offered to divorce me, so I could find someone else. I refused, but he kept offering. Suddenly the fact he was five years older than I am became an issue for him; which hadn't happened since the first year we dated. The idiot," she said fondly.

Suddenly, I recalled something the nurse had said when we arrived. "What's the matter with Henry now? The nurse said he was unable to have visitors?"

Caroline nodded. "Yes. Henry suffered a stroke twelve years ago, and I couldn't take care of him anymore, so we moved in here. Then we found a tumour in his liver three months ago. It's spread to his bones and his brain now. He hasn't got long left," she said sadly.

I swallowed hard, knowing exactly how Caroline must be feeling. But at least they'd had sixty-five years together, and a family. There was some small comfort from that, at least.

**AN. ps- i love Dead Poets Society. Besides Aladdin, my fav Robin Williams movie. And Wilson's in it!!! **


	7. Chapter 7

DISCLAIMER: House isn't mine.

Six:

Finally, House and I stood up to leave when the nurse entered the room to tell Caroline that Henry was awake and asking for her.

"It was _so _nice meeting you," I said sincerely, embracing the elderly lady.

"Well, it was very nice meeting you too, Allison. And you Dr. House," she added to House, her tone sounding sincere.

I was thankful she didn't know House very well in that moment. House shook her hand, said goodbye and headed for the door. I hesitated for a moment before following.

"If you don't mind, Caroline... I'd love to come back and visit you again," I told her and Caroline's face lit up.

"I would love that, child. And maybe next time you can meet Henry too," she suggested.

I smiled and embraced her again. "I'd love that. Thank you."

I admit, when we got outside I got a little teary. It had just been such a long and emotional thirty-six hours; it felt like it was a lifetime ago that I'd been given the letters. And now to have met Caroline, heard her story and to know that Henry was dying, after everything they'd been through, after surviving a war to marry her and raising the child that was conceived through rape... I cried, and I'm not ashamed of it.

"Jesus Christ," House rolled his eyes when he saw me wiping my eyes.

"Don't start," I warned him tiredly.

"You met them once! And not even them, you've met an old lady who's war-time love letters were found in your house. I don't think that's worth crying over," he shrugged.

"See, House- some people are capable of this thing called _empathy_, it's an emotion- a concept you're not familiar with. And if it's not worth crying over, how come you were actually nice to her?" I demanded.

House stared at me for a moment. "I don't know," he admitted. "I guess... they reminded me of someone."

I gave a slight smile and took the bike helmet he offered me. "I know what you mean."

We didn't speak again the entire ride back to the hospital. Of course, the minute we arrived back in the office, Foreman and Chase demanded to know where we'd been. I half-glanced at House, who replied offhandedly;

"Checking out retirement homes."

What?

He was met by quizzical frowns and he shrugged casually, "I'm not getting any younger, kiddies. And why should I live by myself when I can have people take care of me?"

"I wouldn't risk it in your shoes. The other residents would probably do deals with the Grim Reaper to kill you off within a week," I said lightly and House stared at me half-stunned, half-amused.

"Life is not a game of Sims, Cameron," he finally answered. "Although... it could be for all we know. How awesome would that be? That means, if my Sims are playing Sims on their computers- but we are in fact Sims; then it's like three different universes!"

Chase, Foreman and I all rolled our eyes. I mean, seriously.

Foreman had discharged Louise in our absence, so with no further case, we all did our own things that afternoon. House played Sims on his computer, Chase did his crossword puzzles, Foreman read a medical journal, and while I began work on a new article I was writing.

"Hey Cameron!"

I paused in the middle of typing, and sighed. It was late afternoon and House, who was getting ready to leave for the day, had just called me into his office. Chase and Foreman sent me sympathetic glances as I got up and headed next door.

"What?"

"So, how settled are you into the new place yet?"

The question startled me. "Why? You didn't get a chance to look around this morning?" I asked him, but my tone was light.

He didn't respond, so I shrugged and answered him. "Not much, actually. Everything's in there, but I didn't want to unpack anything until the painting's done. I'm still living from boxes."

House nodded. "You wanna get something to eat?"

I was so shocked I almost fell over.

"Umm... sure," I stammered finally. "I'll just get my bag."

I told the boys House was sending me home, due to the fact I had pulled an all-nighter, and hastily said good-night.

"I don't understand why you'd move in to the place before it was painted," House greeted me with when I met him in the hall.

I smiled slightly, because it was actually a good and logical point. "When I gave my landlord notice that I was moving, he immediately found someone else to move in," I explained. "I didn't have a choice."

House frowned. "I don't think he can do that."

I shrugged. "Doesn't matter now, does it? Besides, I wanted to be able to supervise everything going on at the house."

We stepped in the elevator and I looked up at House with a smile. "So where are we going?"

We ended up going to House's favourite hamburger joint, and my god those burgers were good! And they had the best French fries I've ever had in my life. Crispy, crunchy, but the potato was soft inside. We didn't talk much through dinner, because well... House isn't much for conversation (I remembered as much from the-event-that-will-not-be-named); and I was starving. The only thing House said was,  
"I don't think I've ever seen you eat so much."

We had to pass my car for House to get to his bike, and as my car came into sight (we'd had to park on a side street) House suddenly remarked,

"So I realised what they reminded me of."

"What who reminded you of? Caroline and Henry?"

"Yeah, whatever," House said dismissively.

I stopped walking and looked up at him. "OK, so what did they remind you of?"

"Me."

I nodded and said nothing, because well.. .what do you say to that?

"More specifically... me and you."

Ok, now I really had no idea what to say. "Me and you?" I repeated. _You and I_, a little voice said in my head. I told it to shut the hell up, grammar was not important right this minute.

"Caroline was right about unromantic gestures.... they mean something. And _you_ mean something. I know the situations are different... but it seems to have worked out ok for Caroline and Henry."

I had no words, I was lucky if I was breathing, so I just nodded, not entirely sure what was going on.

"Caroline said history repeats itself.... so... its worth a shot right?"

I had never seen House so uncomfortable or uncertain, even on the-event-that-will-not-be-named; so I figured I should say something. I cleared my throat hastily.

"Right."

I have to admit, I actually had no idea what he was talking about, but he made it perfectly clear what I was agreeing with when he leaned forward and kissed me.

And this wasn't just a polite kiss either, this was a "Never Been Kissed" type kiss, except we weren't in the middle of a baseball field- just the street.

Well, know that I knew what House had been referring to, I definitely agreed it was worth a shot. When we separated, I suddenly became incredibly shy, which... is probably one of the worst things I could have done, right?

"So..." I said finally, still blushing faintly. Why is it that's all I seem to do around House? I blame the eyes.

He, of course, seemed incredibly smug and far too pleased with himself for my liking. Considering it was his fault that we hadn't done this three years ago, he was definitely far too smug.

"So..." he repeated. I wasn't sure if he really was speechless (not likely, knowing House), or if he was mocking me (that was likely, knowing House).

"Are you really going to go back and visit them?" he asked abruptly.

I blinked, but answered. "Yes, of course I am. Caroline's lovely, and I'd love to meet Henry."

I couldn't resist smirking a little. "If Caroline's right about history repeating itself, I should definitely meet him, I think."

"Funny," House muttered, and I grinned. Standing on my toes, I kissed his cheek lightly, said goodnight, and unlocked my car.

House was still watching me as I drove away.


	8. Chapter 8

DISCLAIMER: House isn't mine.

Seven:

That weekend, I went back to the retirement home to see Caroline and to meet Henry. If you could see the way he looked at her... even after all these years.... if House was to look at me like that for even a second, I would die happy. And you could tell that Henry, when he was healthy, was a great deal like House; but he has his soft side- when it comes to Caroline. Apparently Caroline had told him all about House and I and he was intrigued by Caroline's theory of "history repeating itself". He insisted that I tell them all about House and I, which I gladly did, I've never told anyone before.

I told them everything, about my husband, our cases, when I quit, our disastrous date (the-event-which-will-not-be-named), everything that had happened in the past three years. When I was caught up to the present, they both sat there for a long moment.

Finally, Henry looked me right in the eye. "That man is head over heels in love with you, Allison."

I laughed slightly, he said it with such confidence and assurance! But he shook his head at me. "I'm seriously, girlie. Head over heels."

"House doesn't do head over heels," I told him.

"Yes he does, all men do. He's just being a coward," Henry said decisively. "Any chance you could get him here? I think I need to have a word to him."

I knew I liked him for a reason. And having someone 'having words' with House was something that definitely had to happen. I agreed to try and rang House's cell. He didn't answer, so I rang his home phone and it went to the answering machine.

"House, it's Cameron. I'm with Caroline and Henry at the moment, and Henry would really like to meet you. You know, world famous Dr. House and all," I said lightly, rolling my eyes. I knew playing to his ego was the way to work this. "So, unless the episode of _General Hospital _you're watching off TiVo is just too riveting to leave, get your ass over here," I told him and hung up.

Caroline and Henry were watching me with amused expressions and I shrugged. I mean, how do you explain that? I wasn't sure if House would turn up, but half an hour later we heard a motorbike roaring into the parking lot, and I excused myself to meet House.

I was kind of nervous, I hadn't spoken to House since our dinner on Tuesday night. The rest of the week at work, I had been too nervous to talk to him about anything non-work related. I wouldn't put it past House to change his mind overnight and deny the whole thing ever happened.

"You came," I greeted him as he approached, inwardly wincing. Was that the dumbest thing I could of said? Of course he came, he was here, wasn't he?

He shrugged. "I do what I can for my public," he retorted and I rolled my eyes.

"How gracious of you. Come on, this way."

I led him back to Henry's room. "Henry, this is Dr. Greg House. House, Henry," I introduced them and they shook hands.

House sat by the bed and there was just a moment of awkward silence before Caroline turned to me.

"Allison, why don't we leave the two men here and go get something to eat? I feel as though we have so much more to talk about."

I smiled at her. "Actually... I've got a better idea."

We left the men and the home and got in my car. I was only a few streets away when Caroline realised where I was taking her.

"Oh my dear," she said softly as I pulled into the driveway of their former home.

I smiled. "I thought you'd like to see it again."

The painters had finished painting the downstairs that week, and were due to start the second floor on Monday. I just hung around in the foyer to let Caroline wander around the house for awhile, then I showed her what I was having done to improve it. We talked for awhile about the house, Caroline telling me all the stories from the many years they had spent together in this home. Finally, we decided we should get back to Henry and House.

"I wonder how it went," I remarked cautiously as I we got out of the car.

Caroline chuckled. "Allison, I don't think you realise just how alike Henry and Dr. House are."

I smiled, and tucked my arm through hers. "Well, hopefully I'll get a chance to find out."

When we entered Henry's room, he and House were sitting there, neither talking, just watching the television. I'm not even sure they were actually watching it, but they were staring at the screen nonetheless.

"Hi," I addressed House, who looked up at me slowly. The expression on his face was... odd. There's no other word for it.

I snuck a quick glance at Henry. He was smiling softly at Caroline, reaching for her hand as she approached the bed and my heart just melted the way they looked at each other. Then my doctor side triumphed over my romantic and I noticed how exhausted Henry looked.

"I think we're going to go, let you get some rest," I said softly, speaking for House and myself.

Caroline nodded. "Thank you for today Allison."

"It was my pleasure," I said sincerely, embracing her. Then I leaned down and kissed Henry's cheek. "And so great to finally meet you, Dr. Beaumont."

He scoffed at me, his tone gruff. "It's Henry, girlie. And I expect you back soon," he ordered me.

"As soon as I can," I promised.

House rose to his feet stiffly and shook both Caroline and Henry's hands before heading to the door.

We left the nursing home together in silence. It was only when we got to the parking lot that House turned to me.

"Want to come over? Wilson's bringing food and beer."

I grinned, both with pleasure at the invitation and imagining the look on Wilson's face when he saw me there. I was quite sure House had told him nothing, or very little about what had occurred throughout the week.

"Sure. I'll meet you there," I agreed. I began to head to my car, but gave in to curiosity and turned back to House.

"What did he say to you? Henry, I mean?"

House paused. I didn't think he was going to answer, when he suddenly replied,

"He just knocked some sense into me, that's all. Showed me the advantages of history repeating itself."

He didn't elaborate and I didn't ask him too. But I was filled with a sudden sense of promise for the future, and a hope that maybe, one day, House would finally let me inside.

THE END


End file.
